The Briscoe Agency
by RosieAnnieUSA
Summary: What happens when an ex-Bannerman man tries to hire two ex-outlaws to help him run his own detective agency? Originally written as a Virtual Season episode.


Two dusty riders climbed down slowly from sweaty horses. Tying the horses up to a hitching post in front of a saloon, the men stretched stiff backs.

"What do you think, Kid ?"

"I'm not thinking. I'm too busy trying to decide what I want more, a beer or a beer."

Heyes gave his partner the one-eye closed look.

"How do you figure that?"

"Doesn't matter," Kid Curry said. "Either way, I get what I want."

Passing through the swinging doors, the men took a quick glance around. Four farmer-types were idly playing cards. The bartender was absorbed in a dime novel, but looked up at the sound of the batwing doors squeaking.

"Afternoon, gents, I'm Sam Bogart, proprietor and barkeep. What can I do for you?"

Heyes leaned his forearms on the bar. "Pleased to meet you, Sam. I'm Joshua Smith and this here's Thaddeus Jones. A beer for me. You decided yet what you want, Thaddeus?"

"Make that two."

Sam picked up two steins. "Is that one for each of you, or one for you and two for you?"

"Might as well make it two for me," Curry said. "That'll save you a trip." The bartender placed the cold glasses before them. They took long, appreciative drinks.

"You new in town?" Sam asked.

"Yep. Looking for work," Heyes said. "Have you heard if anybody's hiring?"

"Depends on what kind of work you're looking for."

"Oh, we're not too particular. Anything that's honest and not too hard on the back."

"Well, there's always ranch work."

"Thanks anyway," Curry said. "We'll probably ask around town later."

"Say, who's sheriff these days?" Heyes asked. "Is it Bob Prendergast?"

"Never heard of Prendergast," Sam said. "Hope you didn't plan on a reunion. Tommy Whitaker's been sheriff a couple years now."

"Nope. I heard Prendergast had moved to New Mexico a couple years ago, but not exactly where. Just checking."

Sam returned to his dime novel as the two men drank their beers in companionable silence. Heyes turned around and leaned back against the bar, casually watching the room and who walked by outside. A few minutes later, Curry's elbow poked into his side. At Heyes' inquiring glance, Curry nodded towards the bartender. Sam was staring at them intently.

"Something we can do for you?" Heyes asked.

Sam folded his novel in half and jammed it into his waistband.

"Matter of fact, maybe I can do something for you. Mind if I ask you a question?"

"You can ask," Curry said.

"You know anything bounty hunting?"

"Now that's a funny question," Heyes said. "What makes you ask that?"

"The way you look and how you wear your guns, you look like you can take care of yourselves. I just remembered there's someone who's hiring men who've got experience with the law. That describe you?"

"Oh yeah, we got that. Lots of experience. Wouldn't you say so, Joshua?"

"I don't know if I'd say LOTS of experience, Thaddeus. We got some. Though experience with the law ain't always the same thing as being bounty hunters, now is it Sam."

"You'd have to ask him more about that. He told me to be on the lookout for men like you. And it's honest work, too. If you think you'd be interested, I can tell you where – hey, here he is right now! Now if that ain't a coincidence!"

Heyes and Curry turned in unison, each wearing a big smile, until they caught sight of the new arrival, a dark-haired mustachioed man wearing a suit and homburg. Three jaws dropped. The man in the suit recovered first.

"Boys! I can't believe it! I was just thinking about you two!"

Heyes and Curry were too surprised to say more than two words. "Harry Briscoe!"

The three men sat around a corner table, quietly catching up over glasses of whiskey. Harry took long, comfortable drags on his cigar.

"Boys, seeing you here today, this is real fortuitous."

Curry's glance at Heyes begged for a translation.

"I don't know if I'd say it was as lucky as that, Harry, but it sure is a surprise." Curry flashed a look of gratitude to Heyes for the smooth explanation.

"Sure it is, Heyes . . . I mean, Thaddeus."

Curry whispered, "I'm Thaddeus, he's Joshua."

"Course, boys, of course. Just checking."

"What's this about you hiring bounty hunters, Harry?" Heyes asked.

"Aren't you working for Bannerman anymore, Harry? You didn't get fired again, did you?"

"No, no, boys. I didn't get fired. My job was eliminated, that's all. Bannerman had a reduction in force, and I was affected."

Mystified, both men looked at each other, and then at Briscoe. "Harry, what are you talking about?" Curry asked.

"It's simple, boys. Bannerman sold some offices to Pinkerton, including Denver. Pinkerton wanted the accounts, but not the agents. I'm out of a job along with every other agent from the Denver office. That's when I decided it was time to go into business for myself."

"But why bounty hunting?"

"Well I can't just copy Bannermann's business model, boys. That's been done. If I'm going to stand out from the Bannermans and the Pinkertons, I've got to specialize. And bounty hunting is the way to make serious money."

Heyes and Curry didn't look impressed. Or happy.

"Nothing personal, boys. It's just business."

"I can't believe Bannerman let you go like that, Harry, especially after you worked for them for so long," Kid said.

"Yeah," Heyes said. "I'm surprised they didn't offer you something."

Harry didn't answer. He coughed into his fist a couple times. Glances were exchanged between Heyes and Curry.

"Harry?" Heyes asked. "Did they offer you something?"

"Well, they, uh, they might have done. A little something."

Heyes and Curry looked at Briscoe in disbelief.

"You turned down George Bannerman?" Curry asked.

"Well, Thaddeus, it wasn't George Bannerman himself. The agency did make a couple offers, but you know me, I'm a man of pride. I couldn't take just anything and maintain my self-respect."

"Harry, Harry. What good's self-respect if you don't have a paycheck?"

"Yeah," said Heyes. "What exactly did you turn down?"

"They offered me a position in Kansas City."

"Why didn't you take that job?" Heyes asked.

Harry sat up straight so suddenly, the other men almost jumped. "It was reporting to Harry Bright, that's why! Harry Bright! Of all people!"

"That's the one who hasn't had a good thing to say about you for 20 years?" Curry said.

"Uh huh. That's the one. Can you imagine that? Harry Bright! Why, that's even worse than the Galveston deal."

"What Galveston deal?" Curry asked.

"Bannerman wanted me to open and operate a new office in Galveston. Galveston, of all places! Do you know how hot it gets in that town? That's as close as you can get to hell without actually dying!"

"I can't believe you turned down two job offers, Harry!" said Heyes.

Curry just shook his head. "Harry, Harry. . . what are we gonna do with you?"

"Boys, this is a good thing. I'm starting out like Bannerman did, training my own people, in charge of my own destiny. You want to see my marketing flyer?"

"No, but hand it over anyway." Briscoe withdrew a folded paper from his suit pocket. He passed it to Heyes, who took it and read out loud.

"'Looking for excitement, opportunity and bountiful rewards in your career? The Briscoe Agency for Professional Detection and Bounty Hunting! Learn from the best! We train you to be the quicker picker upper!'"

"The what?" Curry asked.

Briscoe shrugged modestly. "The quicker picker upper." Curry still looked confused. "Marketing, Thaddeus. You need a catchy slogan."

"Wait, Thaddeus, there's more. 'Apply now! Experience preferred but not required! We will train the right candidates. Apply to Harry J. Briscoe, President and Chairman of the Board." Heyes folded the poster neatly. "Harry, I'm impressed."

"How many men have you trained so far, Harry?"

Briscoe shifted in his chair. "I'm just getting started, Thaddeus. Just getting the word out, the flyers printed. . . "

"So the answer is none."

"Well, I do have a couple prospects, but, technically, that's true."

The two ex-outlaws just looked at Briscoe without speaking.

"Now don't look at me like that, boys! These things take time, that's all. Why, once I get these prospectives trained and bringing in some criminals – all under my guidance, of course – I take a 50% commission on the bounties they collect. The money will be rolling in faster than I can count it!"

"Just how fast can you count, Harry?" Kid asked.

"Won't work, Harry, won't work." Heyes said.

Harry looked wounded. "Joshua, you always underestimate me. Why don't you think it'll work?"

"First off, Harry, it's impossible to underestimate you. You exceed all my expectations. Secondly, you've focused on corporate security your whole career. You're a corporate guy. You're used to working with a team. You don't know how to be an entrepreneur."

"And how about the way you dress, Harry?" Curry said. "I mean, look at you!"

Harry looked down at himself. He brushed dandruff off his shoulder. "Why? What's wrong with the way I look?"

"Your suit, Harry. You always wear a suit. You look like a banker," Heyes said. "A bounty hunter's got to blend in, become part of the scenery."

"Not to mention the two six-guns, Harry," Curry said. "Too showy. Too easy to remember."

"You might have a point or two, boys. It's true, I work well with a team. Always have." Unexpectedly, Harry brightened and smiled broadly.

"Hey . . . what if I hired a couple consultants, just to help set up the training program?"

"Like who, Harry?" Curry asked. "Some of the other men from the Denver office?"

Harry shook his head vigorously. "No, Thaddeus, better than that. A couple men who really understand the criminal mind. Who know how bounty hunters operate."

"Oh no." Heyes said. "Oh no. You don't mean us, do you?"

Harry pointed his cigar at Heyes. "Damn straight. Who knows more about crooks than you do?"

"Help you train bounty hunters, Harry?" Heyes asked. "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. As far as we're concerned, there's more than enough bounty hunters out there already."

"No, no, boys, this could work! You know as much about the business as anybody, but from the other side. Why your perspective would be invaluable!"

"Invaluable to who, Harry? You figuring on collecting your first two bounties?"

Heyes put a calming hand on Curry's arm. "Wait a minute, Thaddeus. Let's think about this. Just how invaluable are you talking, Harry?"

"Joshua, are you crazy?" Curry asked. "You're not really thinking of doing this, are you?"

"I don't see why not, Thaddeus. Since when do we turn down honest work?"

"Since it could get us killed, Joshua!"

"That's not entirely true, Thaddeus. Remember digging up Caroline's gold in Apache Springs? We took that job, knowing it could get us killed."

"Yeah, and it nearly did get us killed. You're not being real convincing here."

"Boys, just listen to me. You don't have to say yes right now. Why don't you think about it, maybe sit in on one of my training sessions? Observe, offer any suggestions, see what you think."

"Sounds like a good idea, Harry," Heyes said. "We'd have to evaluate your current training program before making any suggestions for improvement. If we see anything that needs improvement, of course."

"Now you're talking, Joshua! I'm meeting with a prospective later today, so maybe afterwards we can get together."

"I got a better idea, Harry. Thaddeus can join you. He can be another prospective student. That'll give him a chance to observe you at work and give us an idea where we might contribute our expertise."

"Great idea, Joshua! Here's my card with my office address, Thaddeus." Curry took the card from Harry's outstretched hand with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. "See you at 2 o'clock sharp!" Harry stood up. "We've always worked well together, boys. I got a real good feeling about this."

Heyes and Curry watched Harry leave the saloon. They turned to look at each other, and both men sighed.

"I'm glad somebody's got a good feeling about this, because I sure don't," Curry said.

"Me neither," agreed Heyes. "Just on the off-chance Harry does something right for a change, we need to keep an eye on him. Let's check in at the hotel and get settled. Then you go to Harry's place at two and see what he says and does."

"What are you going to be doing?"

"Talking to the sheriff. I'm wondering what he thinks about a bounty hunting business opening in his town."

"You want to know what I think about it, Smith? I don't like it. Not one bit. But I'm damned if I know what to do about it."

Heyes was sitting across from Sheriff Thomas E. Whitaker, Jr., in Whitaker's office. The wall behind Whitaker was covered in so many wanted posters, they looked like wallpaper. He had to make a conscious effort to avert his eyes from this display.

"You're not worried about the competition, are you, Sheriff?" Heyes smiled genially, trying to take any perceived criticism from his question. Whitaker didn't seem to take offense. Instead, he was incredulous.

"From Briscoe? Have you met him, Smith?"

"On many occasions, Sheriff. I've even worked with him on a free-lance basis. My partner and I are talking to him about joining him in his new business as consultants. Kind of help him get it off the ground."

Whitaker's mouth dropped open. "Well, if that don't beat all. Begging your pardon, Mr. Smith, but you look like a smart man. Why you'd partner up with Briscoe, I don't know. That's man numb as a box of rocks."

"Oh, he's not that bad, Sheriff. He just doesn't make a good first impression, that's all."

"He doesn't make a good second impression either. Or third. Look, Smith, I got enough to do in this town without picking up after Briscoe. He's says he's going after the big bounties, and you know what type of men bring big bounties? Killers. Real bad men who don't think nothing about shooting first. Briscoe's sure to get himself hurt or killed, along with any poor fool that signs up with him. I do not want to see that happen."

"Maybe there's something I can do to help him, Sheriff. Because I don't want to see him getting into trouble either."

"Best thing you can do for him is put him out of business."

"I'll see what I can do about that, Sheriff. In the meantime, maybe my partner and I can teach him some techniques that'll keep him out of trouble."

"You two must have an awful lot of free time on your hands, Mr. Smith, if you think you've got time enough to do that. You know what Briscoe said to me, when he first come to town?"

Heyes opened his mouth to reply, but Whitaker didn't notice.

"He comes in here like he owns the place, and he tells me that he's going to make my life easier. I say, how you figuring to do that? And he says, because he's making this here town the base of operations for his business of bringing in the baddest bad men out there, I can concentrate on the small fry. And I say, mister, some of them fellas are mad, bad and dangerous to know. They will kill you as soon as they'd say howdee do. Well, he just smiles at me and tells me he's retired from the Bannerman Agency, and a Bannerman man knows how to handle himself. Then he hands me one of his fancy calling cards and starts to leave, but he trips over his own feet on the way out, and one of them fancy guns he wears goes off, and he almost shoots himself in the leg. He can't even handle his own gun, and he's supposed to be a Bannerman?"

"Sheriff, I'll admit that Harry can be a little clumsy at times, but he really was a Bannerman agent. We've worked on investigations with him when he was at the Denver office."

Whitaker was shaking his head. "I'll be damned. I thought he was lying. He really was a Bannerman man?"

"Sure was. Fifteen years and more."

"And now he's going out on his own. That's strange, too. It ain't like the Bannerman Agency to let their people go out and compete with them. But then, he's not like any Bannerman I ever seen before."

"No, he sure isn't," Heyes agreed, "He's one of a kind, old Harry is."

"He's going to be the last of his kind, if he don't watch out. You really think you can save him from himself?"

"Got to try, Sheriff. He is my friend, whether I like it or not. Can I rely on you for help, if we need it?"

"To shut him down before he gets himself and some other poor fool killed? You bet."

Kid Curry walked down a long hallway, examining the writing on each door as a grandfather clock chimed twice. He pulled a business card out of his pocket, read it, frowned, and looked around. Card in hand, he walked further down the hall. Ahead, he saw a man, short, squat, strong, holding a business card, looking at doors.

"Excuse me," Curry asked "Are you looking for the Briscoe Agency?"

"Sure am," said the man. "It is supposed to be on this floor, right?"

Curry looked at the card again. "I think so. Is that where you find a penthouse?"

"Couldn't say. I know outhouse and cathouse, not penthouse."

"Sheesh." Curry scratched his forehead. "Me neither. Maybe we should find somebody to ask."

Both men turned in the direction of rapid footsteps approaching them. Harry Briscoe rounded the corner, a little breathless, one hand holding his hat on his hand. He skidded to a sudden stop when he saw his two prospective students waiting.

"Good," Briscoe said. "You're prompt. Very important quality for an agent."

"Yeah," Curry agreed. "I can see that."

"Glad you're here, Mr. Briscoe," the stranger said. "We couldn't find no penthouse."

Briscoe pointed to the end of the hall. "Stairs up to the room with a view. Follow me, gentlemen." He walked quickly, and Curry and the man had to move fast to keep up.

At the top of a short flight of stairs was a landing. The gold-leaf painting on the oak door said "Briscoe Detective Agency." Harry took out a key and opened the door.

Curry stepped inside and stared. The office was large, ornate, and richly furnished. The other man almost bumped into him as he whistled in admiration.

"Whoo-ee! Mr. Briscoe, this is some place!"

"Glad you like it, Stevens." Briscoe walked around them and gestured to the heavy mahogany table surrounded by plush chairs. "Why don't you sit down and introduce yourselves." Both men sank into the comfortable leather seats while Harry removed his hat and sat down across from them.

"Thaddeus Jones," Curry said, extending his hand.

"Suetonius Stevens," the other man said, shaking hands with Curry. "Don't try breaking your teeth on that name. Everyone calls me Tony."

"Anybody ever call you Sue?" Curry asked.

"Not a second time."

Harry folded his hands on the table and gave both men an intense look.

"Before we talk about me training you two to be bounty hunters, I want to know what kind of experience you've had with the law. Jones, why don't you go first?"

Curry frowned. He didn't like being put on the spot. Thinking fast was Heyes' job.

"Ah . . . well, I was a deputy once."

Briscoe blinked. "You were?" He sounded surprised.

"Yeah. Yeah I was," Curry said, warming to the topic. "Sheriff hired me and my partner to escort a couple bank robbers to another town to face trial."

"He did?" Briscoe asked. "You did?"

"Yeah," Curry said, defensively. "Sure we did. In fact, two other men from their gang tried to ambush us along the way. But we were ready for them. We captured them, and turned in all four members of the gang. Twice as many robbers as we started out with.

And, I worked an undercover job once, catching some train robbers out in Brimstone, Colorado. Took down the whole gang." His look dared Harry to comment. "So I got some experience."

"I'll say you do, Jones," Tony said. "How come you want to do a training program? Seems to me you could do this work already."

"I haven't signed up yet," Curry said. "I'm here to see what Mr. Briscoe has to offer."

"I never been a deputy like Jones here, Mr. Briscoe," Tony said, "but I'm already pretty good with a rifle, and I can hold my own in a fight. Seems to me that's all I need to get started."

"That's all you need to get killed, Stevens," Harry said. "I'll train you in professional investigation skills. How to track somebody. Not just by reading the ground, but by interviewing people who got information. How to trace the crook's movements and follow them on the sly, so they don't see you coming. And not just how to get the drop on them, so you can take them, but how to keep them took so they don't get away. Catching them's just half the job, as Jones' little story illustrates so well. The other half is getting them back to face justice, without getting your head blowed off along the way."

Stevens was nodding thoughtfully. Curry frowned. He hadn't expected Harry to say such sensible things.

"Tell me about yourself, Stevens," Harry said. "You've never worked law enforcement, is that right? Not that that's really necessary."

"No, I got no experience with doing this kind of work like Jones does," he said, "but I know bank robbers all too well. Clint Weaver and his gang robbed the bank where me and mine had our life's savings. They cleaned out the bank, and they cleaned us out. I lost all my money, but my kin, they lost their farm, lost everything, even the kids. Had to send the two girls into service. The boys were too young to work, and they had to go to an orphan home. All because of them God-damned thieves. I can't do nothing about what already happened, but I can track down every one of them crooks and send them to the devil."

Curry and Briscoe were quiet, absorbing this story. Neither man knew what to say at first.

"But nobody got shot during the robbery, did they?" Curry asked.

"Nope. Made no difference, though. Weaver killed my kin just the same. Bank robbers, they're the scum of the earth. So, Mr. Briscoe, I got plenty of reason to do this kind of work. I been a carpenter all my life. All I need is the right tools, and I can get the job done. That's why I'm here."

"Sound like you're ideally suited to go into this line of work, Stevens," Briscoe said.

"No he ain't," Curry responded. "I've heard tell of the Weaver gang. If they didn't kill anyone that day they robbed your bank, it's a miracle. Better to let the professional lawmen go after them."

"The professional lawmen been trying to catch them, and they ain't done it. 'Sides, if Mr. Briscoe here can show me some tricks of the trade he learned from Bannerman, Weaver won't see me coming."

"You're not wearing a gun," Curry said. "Do you know how to use one? Because you better be real good with a six-gun if you're going face down Weaver and his kind."

"I'm more of a rifleman, Mr. Jones, but I'm no gunnie. I figure I can learn that, too. I ain't stupid, you know."

"Stevens' lack of experience with a six-gun doesn't matter, Thaddeus," Briscoe interrupted. "That can be taught."

"Weaver's been shooting people since he run away from home when he was 14," Curry said. "How you planning to teach someone to go against that level of skill in a couple days, Harry? Tony won't even slap leather before Weaver fills him with lead. Do you really want his murder on your conscience?"

"Now wait a minute, Jones," Tony said, getting angry. "Don't you be disrespecting me and Mr. Briscoe like that. Don't forget he's got two six-guns, and you only got one."

"You only need one when you know how to use it," Curry said.

"I hear that Doc Holliday wears two guns," Tony said. "Nobody fools with him."

"Oh, there's a great example. You want to be like Doc Holliday, is that your plan? Tell me, Tony, you ever fired a gun at another man? You know what it feels like to kill someone?"

"Nope," Tony said. "But I got no scruples about putting down murderers. Clint Weaver's wanted dead or alive. Don't make no difference to me how I bring him in."

Harry's head was snapping back and forth as he watched the escalating argument between his two recruits.

"You know what it means to wear a gun? Do you?" Stevens just looked at Jones stubbornly. "Tell him, Harry. Tell him what it means to wear a gun, if he's going after bounties."

"Well, I, uh. . . " Harry cleared his throat. "Why don't you tell him, Jones. You're doing so well."

Curry glared at Harry before turning back to Stevens. "It means you're a target. It means men assume you're able to defend yourself. You'll have to shoot."

"I ain't afraid of shooting. But I think maybe you are. Maybe you're yellow." Across the table, Curry heard Briscoe take in a deep breath. He spared a glance at Briscoe and saw real fear in his face. He didn't know how Curry would react to that insult. Instead of getting angrier, Curry felt the tension wash out of his body. He slumped, as if he were exhausted.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. And you should be, too. Because when you carry a gun, you shoot it. And when you shoot, you'll have to aim to kill. You ever killed a man, Tony? I mean, fired a bullet into a man's chest and then watched him bleed out on the street? Because that's what you'll have to do. Stand there and watch someone's guts spill. Can you do that?"

"Damn straight I can," Tony said. "I want to make sure Weaver and his kind don't hurt nobody else. The best way to do that is to put him in his grave. Him and every bank robber."

"Stevens." Briscoe's voice was quiet. "This work isn't about revenge. This is about justice. We bring in people like Weaver where the sheriff can't, because we can devote everything to tracking him down. We arrest Weaver, and then we let the justice system work through its due process. It'll be up to a judge and jury to decide if he deserves death. Not you."

"Harry's right," Curry said, surprising Briscoe. "Just because a wanted poster says dead or alive, it don't mean you get to be judge and jury."

"We aim to be agents of the law, Stevens," Harry insisted. "We don't take the law into our own hands. We're not killers."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Stevens said. "I come here to learn how to bring down the worst of the worst, and all I get from you two is mealy-mouthed love your neighbor garbage. You running a detective agency here or a church social?" He stood up so fast, his chair fell back and crashed on the floor behind him.

"And you, Briscoe, I thought you was supposed to be a Bannerman. I never thought I'd see the day when a Bannerman man wants to be coddling criminals. If you won't help me, I guess I'll have to bring in Weaver all by my lonesome." Stevens strode out, slamming the heavy oak door behind him. Curry and Briscoe both winced at the sound.

"That went well," Briscoe said.

"Is this really what you want to do, Harry?" Curry asked. "Send an amateur like Tony out against the Weavers of the world?"

"He won't be an amateur, once I've worked with him, Thaddeus. He'll be able to handle himself."

"Are you listening to yourself, Harry? You asked me and Heyes to work with you because we know criminals. Well, we've tangled with Clint Weaver and his gang. You can train Tony till judgment day, and he still won't last two minutes against Weaver. It won't matter none to Clint, but it'll matter a lot to Tony's kin, and you'd be responsible for putting him in that situation."

"You got it wrong, Thaddeus. You heard him. He's planning to go after Clint Weaver, with me or without me. At least I'd give him a little knowledge, maybe give him a chance."

Curry put both hands on the table and pushed himself up wearily. "No, Harry, there'd be no chance. Heyes always says, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. You'd give Tony just enough confidence to go up against Weaver, when you and I know what's going to happen."

Harry was clasping and unclasping his hands. He didn't look up at Curry.

"You stick with this idea of training amateurs to be bounty hunters, and you're going to be responsible for a lot of them getting shot up, maybe even killed. Is that really what you want, Harry? Can you live with that?"

Curry put Stevens' chair back upright next to the table and turned to leave. He paused at the door with his hand on the handle.

"I'm going over to the saloon now. I need six or eight glasses of whiskey after this. If you want to talk, that's where I'll be."

He exited the room much more quietly than Stevens had done. Harry watched the closed door for a long time, thinking.

Hannibal Heyes passed through the saloon doors and took a moment to look around. Kid Curry was crouched over the bar, with a bottle and glass in front of him. Heyes went to stand next to him. Sam Bogart was still behind the bar, reading, but he looked up when Heyes approached.

"Didn't expect to find you here, Thaddeus."

Curry just shrugged. Sam held up a glass. Heyes nodded, and Sam used Curry's bottle to fill the glass.

"How'd things go with the training session?"

"Wonderful. Just wonderful." Curry tipped the glass back and drained it. He reached for the bottle to refill and was restrained by Heyes' hand on his arm.

"Move your hand or lose it." Heyes wisely moved his arm and let Curry pour more whiskey for himself, which he swallowed quickly.

"What happened?" Heyes asked quietly.

Curry didn't answer.

"Come on, Thaddeus." Heyes said.

"Not here. Not now."

"Alright. Let's go back to the hotel room."

"Not yet. I'm still thirsty."

Heyes sighed. There was no moving Curry when he was in one of his moods.

"How about we sit down at that table by the wall? My feet are killing me." Curry acknowledged his request with a slight nod. Heyes picked up the bottle and his glass, and he led Curry to a table that provided a good view of the room. Heyes filled his own glass again and settled back to wait out Curry's temper.

A few minutes later, Heyes saw a stocky 40ish man enter, look around, and scowl at Curry. Curry looked briefly at him and seemed to dismiss him. The man stomped to the bar and ordered whiskey. Heyes watched him shoot dirty looks at Curry in the mirror.

"Who's your friend?" Heyes asked.

Curry looked sideways towards the bar and then back at Heyes. "Harry's prospective student."

"And where's Harry?"

"Probably still at his penthouse."

"His penthouse? He's got a penthouse?" Curry looked briefly surprised that Heyes seemed to know what a penthouse was.

"Didn't go so well, huh?"

"You could say that."

"What did you do with that man, call him out?"

"If I did, he'd be getting bandaged up right about now."

"Judging by the way he's looking at you, you still might get the chance."

"I don't draw on somebody who's unarmed. You know that."

"What are you talking about? He's heeled." Curry sat up straighter and looked directly at Tony Stevens. Stevens wore a gunbelt that fit him loosely. The holster hung at an awkward angle. A look of concern crossed Curry's face.

The batwing doors swung open again and Harry Briscoe entered. He stopped just inside the doors and surveyed the room. He looked at Heyes and Curry. He looked at Tony Stevens. Instead of joining any of the men, he went to a table in a far corner and sat down heavily by himself. The bartender walked over to take his order. Soon, Briscoe was gripping a beer stein, sudsing his mustache with foam, looking deeply unhappy.

Heyes watched this little drama play out with increasing concern. Something had happened, and nobody was talking. He needed to get Curry out of there before the situation escalated.

"I had an interesting meeting with Sheriff Whitaker, Thaddeus. How about we take this bottle back to our hotel room so I can tell you what he said?"

"Okay. I don't think much of the customers here anyway." Both men stood, draining their glasses. Heyes tossed a few coins on the table and picked up the bottle. He led the way to the door, but stopped when he realized Curry wasn't directly behind him. He turned and saw the stocky man from the bar intervene himself between Heyes and Curry. His aggressive stance was all too familiar. Heyes snapped the safety off his holster. Across the room, Harry Briscoe sat up straight, and Sam Bogart put down his dime novel and reached for the shotgun he kept concealed under the bar.

"Jones," Stevens called out. "I want to talk to you."

Curry stopped and faced Stevens.

"I'm listening."

"I got me a gun now."

"So I see."

Stevens swallowed hard a couple times.

"And now that I got me a gun . . . " Curry waited. Heyes moved his right hand closer to his gun. Briscoe slowly rose to his feet. Sam cradled the shotgun in his arms.

"Now that I got a gun. . . I got no idea what to do with it." Stevens smiled, almost looking embarassed. "I was thinking . . . maybe you could teach me?" Every other man in the room exhaled. Briscoe sank down in his chair. Sam held the shotgun, waiting. Curry's expression didn't change. Stevens tugged at the loose gun belt, but it settled at an odd angle again.

"I'm not thinking to face off with anyone, Mr. Jones. I mind what you said. I know you can't make me into some kind of gunnie, and I don't want to be like that anyway. But I need help. Right now, I'm more likely to shoot myself than anyone else. And I can't help my family if I'm dead."

"No," Curry agreed. "That'd be hard to do." He jammed his thumbs into his gun belt. "You're talking basics, right? Nothing fancy?" Stevens nodded. "I'm not at my best right now. Me and my partner" – he nodded towards Heyes, who smiled in response – "been having a few whiskeys. Would tomorrow morning work for you? Say, meet you here around 10? We'll ride out of town a bit, find a good place to shoot where we won't cause any ruckus."

Stevens relaxed. "Thanks, Mr. Jones. I sure would be grateful."

"In the meantime," Curry said, "Take that gunbelt off. Then you can sit down back there with Mr. Briscoe. You two didn't get to finish your meeting."

"I'll do just that." Curry watched Stevens unbuckle the belt and hang it over one arm as he walked over towards Briscoe. Stevens and Briscoe shook hands and then sat down, heads close as they spoke. Only then did Curry walk towards the doorway where Heyes was waiting.

Heyes put one hand on Curry's shoulder. "We all done here, Thaddeus?"

"Yeah. Let's get back to the hotel. If I don't get to pee out this whiskey in about two minutes, I might explode."

"We'll walk fast."

The hotel room was half dark when Kid Curry opened his eyes and rolled onto his side. He rubbed his face and groaned. Slowly, reluctantly, he pushed himself into a sitting position and then leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands.

When Curry heard the door handle turning, he reached for the gunbelt hanging over the brass headboard. He relaxed when he saw it was Heyes returning.

Heyes smiled brightly.

"Feeling better?"

"Oh sure." Curry watched Heyes light the wall lamp. The room grew brighter as Heyes turned up the wick.

"Where you been?"

"Visiting Harry's penthouse."

"What were you doing at Harry's?"

"Nothing much. Just a little breaking and entering."

Curry snapped to attention. "You robbed Harry?"

Heyes put his hat on the dresser and settled into a chair, steepling his fingers. "I didn't steal anything. I just had a little look around."

"Alright. I'll bite. Why were you looking around?"

"Something my new friend, Sheriff Whitaker, said about the Bannerman organization has been on my mind. Since Harry was still confabbing with your shooting buddy, and you were getting some beauty sleep, I figured I could get in and out before he came back and take a look through his papers. And lo and behold, I found something interesting."

Curry rubbed his neck. "You going to tell me about it?"

Heyes shook his head. "Not just yet, Kid. I want to think on this a bit more, figure out how we can use this to our advantage. And I think it'll be to Harry's advantage, too, though he may not think so at first."

"We got to shut him down, Heyes."

"I know. He's a danger to us and a bigger danger himself. Even Sheriff Whitaker thinks so."

"It's worse than you think, Heyes. He actually said some smart things about how to track and bring back bounties. If he gets a chance to teach that to his trainees, you and me'll have to buy passage on the next ship to South America."

"Did he? Well, all the more reason to put Harry out of business."

Curry put his head between his hands again and rubbed his head.

"Bit of a headache, Kid?"

"What do you think?."

Heyes stood up and put one hand on Kid's shoulder. "I think you need to eat. Come on. I'll buy you dinner. You'll feel better."

Curry looked up at Heyes and smiled. "Now you're talking. Food always makes me feel better."

"That's one of the constants in life I depend upon, Kid. Get your hat and let's go."

Kid Curry pushed his empty plate aside. He folded the cloth napkin and put it on the table. He burped.

Hannibal Heyes snickered. "Guess I don't have to ask if you liked your dinner."

"Nope."

"Headache gone?"

"Yep."

"Feel like playing a couple hands of poker before we turn in?"

"Yep."

Heyes glanced at the door and frowned. Curry noticed, and twisted in his chair to see what changed Heyes' mood.

"What is it?"

"Feel like talking to the sheriff?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Don't think so. Smile, and try not to look suspicious."

"How do I not look suspicious?"

Heyes rose to greet Tommy Whitaker. "Good to see you again, Sheriff."

"You may not think it's so good when I tell you why I'm here. Mind if I sit down?"

"'Course not. This is my partner, Thaddeus Jones."

"Oh yeah," Whitaker said. "You're the one that wants to teach that fool Stevens how to use a gun."

"You got it backwards, Sheriff. The most important lesson I'll teach him is not to use his gun."

"Looks like you won't get the chance. Him and Briscoe rode out a couple hours ago, hunting a bounty."

"They did what?" Heyes asked. Both Heyes and Curry wore stunned expressions.

"They're out chasing a bounty."

"How did they figure there was a bounty to chase?"

"Sam over at the Silver Dollar, he says they were drinking and looking at a few wanted posters Briscoe had in his pocket. Stevens thought he recognized somebody he'd been drinking with a day or so ago, and they decided to go track him down."

"Who are they looking for?"

"Man named Johnny Barnes. You ever hear of him?" Heyes nodded. "He was with the Cowboys, out of Tombstone. Wanted for everything but truancy. Bounty's $2,000."

"Do you think it really is Barnes they're hunting?"

"Could be. I don't know. The description on him's pretty vague. He wasn't one of the leaders of that gang. Just a foot soldier. But he's a bad one. If Briscoe and Stevens catch up with him, it could get ugly."

"Any idea which way they went, Sheriff?" Curry asked.

"Yeah. I can point you in the right direction, but that's about all."

Curry and Heyes looked at each other and made their decision without speaking.

"If you can do that, Sheriff, we'll leave at first light. We'll just pay up and meet you at your office in a few minutes."

"Glad to hear it. I'll be waiting." He tipped his hat at both men and left.

"Guess that means no poker tonight," Curry said.

"Nope," agreed Heyes.

"And we'll have to be up and out at the crack of dawn."

"Yep."

"Without breakfast?"

"Probably."

"Sheesh."

The sun was high in the sky when Heyes and Curry found the remains of a campfire. Curry dismounted and poked the ashes with a twig.

"Don't look more than a couple hours old. They must've got a late start this morning."

"If it's their fire, and not Barnes'."

"I think it's theirs," Curry said. Looks like two bed rolls were laid out. And there's signs of two horses and two different sets of footprints. It should be pretty easy to follow them from here. I think we can pick up the pace. Just be sure to keep a sharp eye. We don't want to sneak up on them unawares. They might spook and shoot us."

"There's a happy thought."

Curry swung back up onto his horse.

"You know anything about this Johnny Barnes, Heyes?"

"He was with the Cowboys Gang. That's all I need to know to know he's trouble. 'Course, it's more likely they're following some poor sap who's guilty only of fitting a vague description on a wanted poster."

"Maybe. The way our luck's been running, it'll be Barnes, they'll catch him and claim the reward, and Harry's business will be a big success."

"You got to have some faith, Kid."

"Faith in what? In Harry?"

"Sort of. Faith that Harry will mess up somehow. Or, in case he does do something right for a change, faith that my Plan B will work."

"That the plan you haven't told me about yet?"

"Yeah. It's already moving forward."

"I hope you're right about this, Heyes. Because we could be in a lot of trouble if you're not."

"Trust me, Kid. When have I ever let you down?"

"The day's not long enough to tell you. Let's get a move on."

They moved slowly along the road, scanning the ground as they rode. Heyes was several feet ahead of Curry before he realized Curry had stopped. Heyes turned in his saddle, frowning.

"What is it?" he said, quietly.

"Thought I heard a strange sound up ahead."

"Probably an animal."

"Not like any animal I know. Let's check this out on foot." Both men dismounted and tied their horses up several feet off the side of the road, where they wouldn't be easily visible. Heyes looked inquiringly at Curry, who gestured with his pistol the direction he wanted to go. They moved quietly through the trees for about a hundred feet. The sound of something scratching loudly in the rocky ground grew louder. Heyes followed Curry's slow approach. He stopped when Curry sank to his knees and pushed some bushes aside with his pistol, listening intently. He heard Curry's low voice say "I do not believe this."

Heyes creeped up next to Curry. "What?" he mouthed without sound. Curry pointed, and Heyes squeezed close to him to look. He saw the source of the strange sound. In a small clearing, Briscoe and Stevens were gagged with bandannas and tied securely, coils of rope around their upper bodies and around their feet. They were rolling in the dirt, trying to loosen their bindings. It looked like the ropes were tight enough that all Briscoe and Stevens could do was get dirtier and more frustrated.

Heyes, smiling, started to stand, but Curry waved him back. "Make sure Barnes is gone first." Heyes nodded his understanding and, still smiling, went right while Curry went left. They met up on the other side of the small clearing.

"Nothing," Curry whispered. "I saw his tracks. He's gone, probably an hour ago. Looks like he took their horses and everything they had with them. We might as well untie them." Curry started to move forward but was restrained by Heyes' hand on his arm.

"Let's wait a couple minutes," Heyes said. "I want to make sure I remember every little detail of this picture. This ought to be worth a few favors down the road." The men rolling on the ground and grunting through their gags. Heyes and Curry grinned at each other and stood up.

"Well, well, Thaddeus, what do we have here?" The men rolling on the ground paused in their frantic motion and twisted towards Heyes' voice. Hope, joy, and embarrassment all passed over Harry's face. He grunted muffled sounds in Heyes' direction.

"Stop rolling around, you two," Curry said. Heyes pulled a knife out of his boot and kneeled next to Stevens. He cut through the ropes while Curry stood nearby and watched. Stevens pushed himself to his feet and stretched while Heyes moved over to release Harry.

"I've never been as glad to see you boys as I am today," Briscoe said. "You didn't see him, did you?"

"See you, Harry?"

"That rotten thief Johnny Barnes, that's who! He saw us coming and got the drop on us! Stole our horses, too!"

"No, Harry, we didn't see him."

"You alright, Tony?" Curry asked Stevens, who was patting himself and shaking off a collection of leaves, grass, and small branches.

"Oh, I'm dandy," Stevens said. "Just fine and dandy." Stevens was carefully not looking in Briscoe's direction.

"How long you been here, Tony?" Curry asked.

Stevens stopped brushing himself off long enough to look at the sun. "Probably an hour or more, I'd say."

"Good," Heyes said. "Barnes is long gone then. And with two extra horses, he can switch his ride and move fast. We don't have to worry about him coming back."

"You mean we're not going after him?" Briscoe asked.

"Nope," Heyes said.

"But why not? He's a thief and he's worth $2,000."

"A thief, you say?" Heyes said. "Sounds like a bad man. That's the kind of man we avoid, right, Thaddeus?"

"Avoid them like we avoid hard work," agreed Curry. "Besides, who'd give you two a ride back to town if we went after Barnes?"

"That's just as well," Harry said. "Once we get back to town, me and Stevens can get fresh horses and set off again."

"Not on your life, Briscoe. I fell for your sales pitch once. I ain't doing it again."

"Now Stevens, I admit we've had a small setback, but –"

"But nothing, Briscoe. It's bad enough getting robbed, but we could've been killed. If'n you knew what you were doing like you said you did yesterday, we'd wouldn't be rolling in the dirt today, hoping for somebody to come along and rescue us. Our deal's off. And by the way, you owe me a horse and saddle."

"That's a smart decision, Ted," Curry said. "Let the professionals deal with the Barnes' of the world."

"I am a professional!" Harry shouted. "I know how to deal with the Barnes' of this world!"

"Double up with me, Ted, and let's get you back to town. Breakfast's on me."

"That's the best offer I had all week, Thaddeus. And if you don't mind, I think I'll pass on the shooting lesson."

"Another smart decision. I'd rather eat than shoot any day of the week." The two men started to walk away when Curry noticed Briscoe and Heyes hadn't moved.

"You boys planning to camp out here?" Curry asked.

"Me and Harry need to talk a couple minutes. We'll catch up."

"Suit yourself."Curry and Stevens entered the forest and were soon out of sight.

"It's not as bad as it looks, Joshua. We were on Barnes' trail. We could have brought him in, no problem."

"Except you probably were louder than a herd of buffalo. He ambushed you before you'd barely broke camp, he stole your horses and your guns, and he left you gift wrapped like somebody's Christmas present."

"Just a setback, Joshua. Now that I've seen him, I can resupply and track him down." Heyes saw some idea light up Harry's face, and he braced himself.

"Why don't you and Thaddeus join me? Think of it – I'll give you boys, say, 25% of the reward. You won't get another offer like that!"

"I'm sure I won't, Harry. But I'm going to decline your generous offer. In fact, I think me and Thaddeus are going to decline your offer to join your business."

"Now don't be like that, Joshua. Sure, this little incident doesn't look good –" Harry paused while Heyes snorted – "but these things happen. A dedicated lawman regroups and rededicates himself to the task. And with the value of your expertise, yours and Thaddeus', why the sky's the limit."

"Today you value our expertise at 25%, Harry. Yesterday you said we were invaluable. I don't think we can come to an agreement on the numbers." Heyes turned and started walking back where the horses were tied up. Harry followed him, talking all the way.

"What kind of attitude is that, Joshua? Let's negotiate. I know! I'll buy you and Thaddeus dinner tonight? How would that be? I know Thaddeus appreciates a fine meal. Just call it my way of saying 'thank you' for your timely intervention this morning. We can talk more about our business opportunities."

"Talk more or listen more, Harry? I don't think we have anything left to say to each other on this subject."

Heyes stepped under a branch. Harry, following and talking, didn't notice, and the branch slapped him in the face. He staggered and wiped his nose. He scrambled to catch up with Heyes.

"Call it an olive branch then, Joshua. I'll make it all up to you. Come on! It's only dinner! It's not a commitment. We can come to an understanding, I'm sure of it!"

Heyes paused. "You're buying?"

"Absolutely! My treat!"

"You're talking about a good dinner. At a real restaurant, with waiters and a wine list. Not the saloon."

Harry hesitated and gulped. "Of course! Nothing's too good for you boys!"

"I don't know, Harry. This seems like a bad idea to me."

"Joshua, I can see you're skeptical." Harry said. "Give me a chance. I know I can put all your doubts to rest."

"Harry, I've reconsidered. You know me and Thaddeus well enough to know by now, we can be bought. We'll meet you at eight, and you can tell us how we're going to train bounty hunters who won't be going after the bounty on us."

Kid Curry lay on his hotel bed, arms crossed behind his head. Heyes was combing his hair and admiring his reflection in the mirror.

"I still can't believe he turned down two job offers from Bannerman."

"Believe it."

"Heyes, this is all our fault."

Heyes tore himself away from the mirror to look at his friend. It seemed to be the day for nonsense.

"How is this our fault?"

"We helped him too much before. It made him think he was capable."

"Helping each other is what friends do, Kid."

"I guess." Heyes returned to the mirror.

Kid stared at the ceiling."Heyes, I don't know why we're doing this."

"Doing what, eating with Harry? Because you and I don't have enough money to feed you properly."

Curry sat up. "That's not what I mean. We know we aren't going to work for him, or even with him. Why string him along?"

"Couple of reasons, Kid. First, he did offer to pay for dinner, and we're not exactly flush. Second, as much as I hate to admit it, he's our friend. And third, so we can put him out of business."

"Is putting him out of business the sort of thing a friend does, Heyes?"

"Friends like us, with a healthy sense of self-preservation? Sure. Besides, it's for his own good. Even if he doesn't know it yet."

"Harry's not going to think that's the act of a friend."

Heyes sat down on the opposite bed. "You saw what happened today. If he goes after real criminals – not pretty good bad men like you and me – he's going to get hurt, maybe even killed. We're going to keep him alive, and that is something a friend would do."

"He won't have any kind of a job then. What's he supposed to do, become a crook? He's worse at that than he is at being a detective."

"Leave it to me, Kid. Plan B is underway."

"Oh. Great. I feel so much better."

"Have a little faith, Kid!" Heyes got up and reached for his suit jacket.

"You go ahead and meet Harry. I'll catch up with you, oh, maybe a half hour or so late."

"Where are you going to be?"

"Putting the finishing touches on Plan B. Make some excuse for me, and I'll be along directly."

"You gonna let me in on this plan sometime, Heyes?"

"Soon enough, Kid. Just make sure you follow my lead when we're talking at dinner."

"If you say so, Heyes. I sure hope you know what you're doing."

Heyes paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Kid! I'm hurt! A Hannibal Heyes plan never fails." He didn't notice Kid's sour expression before he went out.

"Thanks for buying dinner, Harry."

"My pleasure, Thaddeus, my pleasure. Just an inducement. If you boys come on board with me, the sky'll be the limit."

Kid doubted it, but he didn't say so. He took another sip of the wine Harry had ordered and admired the restaurant. Lots of soft lighting, uniformed waiters hurrying around unobtrusively, well-dressed people talking in quiet tones, and a fine wine. It was the sort of place he and Heyes hadn't been able to afford since going straight.

Curry tilted his head back to drain the glass. When he put the glass back down with a thump and a satisfied sigh, he saw Hannibal Heyes looking down at him.

"Looks like you took me seriously when I said you should start without me. You look pretty relaxed already."

"You're here just in time, Joshua. I was saying to Thaddeus a minute ago, you're not going to get another offer like mine."

"I don't doubt that, Harry. But before we order and spend the money you haven't earned yet, I've got a few questions," Heyes said. He sat down, quietly thanking a waiter who appeared as if by magic and filled Heyes' wine glass.

"Fire away, Joshua. Partners shouldn't have secrets."

"Thank you, Harry. I'm glad you feel that way. Secrets are bad for business, don't you think?"

"Well,. . . well, sure, Joshua, but . . ."

"For instance," Heyes said, interrupting. "I'm thinking about your old friends at the Bannerman Detective Agency. Do they know about your little venture?"

"The Agency?" Harry said. He looked uncomfortable. "Well, actually, no, I haven't discussed it with anyone at the Agency. But that's not important."

"Isn't it, Harry?" Heyes smiled sweetly at Harry, who was tugging at his collar, as if it had gotten tighter. "Why, Harry, you're frowning. Is something wrong?"

Harry forced a smile. "No, of course not, everything's fine. You know, if you two come in with me, we could put together a training program that's better than anything Bannerman or Pinkerton has."

"I admire your optimism, Harry. But frankly, I'm surprised you decided to do this kind of work."

"Why surprised, Joshua? After all, I'm a Bannerman man. I know the detecting business inside out."

"Technically, you used to be a Bannerman man, Harry. But that's beside the point."

"Oh," said Harry. "What is the point?"

Heyes leaned forward, causing Harry to lean in, too. "Just this, Harry. You were an employee.

You did all the work, and Bannerman took all the credit. Right?"

"Well, yeah. That's why I'm starting my own business. People are going to hear about Harry Briscoe."

"Exactly!" Heyes said. He looked expectantly at Harry. Curry watched the interplay between the two men, waiting. Harry looked confused.

"I'm thinking about the danger you're in, Harry."

"What danger? I'm not in any danger."

"Well, no, not yet, Harry. But once your business is up and running, you'll be a target for every low-down crook and killer out there."

"I will? How?"

"Because you're training bounty hunters to go after them! They'll be swarming all over the bad guys, and it's all because of you. You'll need to hire some of your best students to be bodyguards for you. Don't you think so, Thaddeus?"

Curry was startled, but he recovered fast. "Sure, Joshua. You know, Harry, I got to tell you, I really admire you for risking your life this way."

"Risking my life? How?"

"By setting yourself up as a target. That takes real courage, especially without the gang – I mean, the Agency – to watch your back. I didn't know you had it in you. You got my respect, Harry."

"Oh yeah. . . .thanks. But, uh, I don't think anybody would go after me. I mean, I'm just small potatoes."

Heyes smiled brightly and slapped Harry on the back. "Now you're just being modest, Harry. This business model of yours will make you famous! Think about it."

"I am thinking about it." Harry wiped his forehead with his napkin. The room seemed to be getting warmer. Conversation ground to a halt. Heyes and Curry exchanged quick glances.

"How about we order, Harry?" Curry asked. "You must be about as starved as me by now."

"You boys go ahead," Harry said. "I think I lost my appetite."

Two men sprinted for the hotel porch as thunder rolled and fat raindrops began to fall. They'd barely jumped the steps, two at a time, when the skies opened up and the rain came down in sheets.

"Sheesh. If this keeps up, nobody's going to go out for poker. We might as well call it a night."

Hannibal Heyes turned to watch lightning illuminate the chunks of hail beginning to fall and coat the unpaved street. "For once, I'm in total agreement, Kid. I don't feel like swimming to the saloon, especially since we did pretty well last night. Let's just get packed so we can get out of town early tomorrow morning."

"After breakfast," Curry said.

Heyes ducked his head to hide his smile. "Goes without saying, Kid."

"I thought sure we'd see Harry again. It's been two days. Wonder where he's been keeping himself?"

"I couldn't imagine, Kid."

Curry looked at his partner. Heyes wore his innocent face. "What do you know that you're not telling me?"

"Plenty, Kid. Plenty."

They found Harry Briscoe waiting outside their hotel room.

"Well, Harry, we were wondering what happened to you," Heyes said.

"Invite me in, boys. There's been a small change in plans."

Heyes opened the door. Harry walked past him and sat down heavily on a bed.

"What happened, Harry?" Curry asked.

"A lot, Thaddeus. Apparently somebody sent telegrams to Bannerman, telling him all about my little venture here."

"They did, did they?" Curry asked, glancing at Heyes' impassive face. "Is that a problem?"

"Well, I'd forgotten – completely forgotten, mind you! – about the non-compete agreement I had to sign."

"What kind of agreement is that, Harry?" Curry asked.

"Part of my separation documentation when I left the Bannerman organization. I sort of promised not to compete with Bannerman's business for two years, and they seem to think my agency is direct competition. They threatened to sue me into the poorhouse."

Curry settled himself on the other bed. "From the penthouse to the poorhouse, huh? That sounds real bad, Harry. What are you going to do?"

"Well, there is something I can do. Bannerman offered to drop the lawsuit and reinstate me with full benefits, pension, everything, if I'd accept their offer to get an office started in Galveston. It'd be pretty close to having my own business, since I'd be setting up the office, doing the hiring and training, everything. I got no choice but to accept. So, I'm going to live in Hell."

"Really, Harry? Full benefits?" Kid asked.

"Yeah. No dental, though."

"Ah, Harry, cheer up," Heyes said. "You'll be in charge. It won't be the Briscoe Agency, true, but you'll still be running the office, and you'll have the whole Bannerman organization backing you up. Besides, Galveston's a booming town. Lots of opportunity there. That means lots of crooks."

"Lots of Texans, too. Lucky me. I'll probably be dead of heat prostitution before six months are out."

"I think you mean heat prostration, Harry." Heyes said.

"Whatever. If you're ever in Galveston, put some flowers on my grave."

"Sure, Harry, if that'd make you feel better." Curry said.

"I just don't get it, boys. Why would anybody want to tell Bannerman what I was doing? Why would anybody want to shut down my bounty hunting business?"

Curry looked at his partner. Heyes wore his innocent face again.

"I don't know, Harry, but I'm sure it was someone who had your best interests in mind. And maybe his own, too."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This is the first version of my Virtual Season episode. It contains many anachronisms that were inappropriate for an episode, and were adapted or eliminated to meet the producer's guidelines. But I really like those anachronisms, and I especially like those that reference my long experience as a human resources manager. There are also a few words that would not have passed the rigid TV censorship of 1971, but are incredibly mild for 2014. Other than these, the plot, characters, and storyline is exactly the same.

The Virtual Season episode of "The Briscoe Agency" is posted on the AS&J writer's site.


End file.
